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Rated: 18+ · Poetry · Romance/Love · #559454
Missing you.

Home Alone



The clock radio ticks loud as
a time bomb, outside the neighbor's dog
yaps at a cat, while down the street

a policeman flips on his siren.
My book has slipped from my hand,
but it doesn’t make a sound, because

my thoughts are with you, daydreaming
about last night, you lay right here
beside me, your warm body curled

up next to mine, your strong legs
entwined with mine, your sweet lips
so warm so inviting. I love

the touch of your hand,
the nape of your neck,
the dimple of your back,

the emotions sparkling in your dark eyes.

Last night I was not aware of exploding
clocks, dancing dogs, or speeding
patrol cars. All I heard was the sound

of your breath upon my cheek
and the clean sheets as they rustled
as our feet rubbed together warming

themselves, your toes were cold from having
tip-toed across the hard floor. As your
arms encircled my waist, my fingers

toyed with your hair, rolling it into little curls,
and then used the wisps as a brush to
caress your forehead, cheeks, and lashes.

Your eyes closed and you sighed,
One of your little ‘melting sounds,’
Like a woman on the verge of ecstacy.

In the darkness I studied your beauty
Like an eager student, when you open and
Blinked your eyes in them I saw

a shooting star. "Look at the time,"
you squeezed me tight, one last hug,
before squeezing into your jeans and leaving.

The radiator clangs like a ghost rattling
its chains, while outside the chimes on the front porch
ting with the wind like Aeolus’ harpsichord.

Slipping from my bed I close the window
Then grope my way back in the dark.
It’s suddenly cold, throw on another blanket.

Slipping between the sheets suddenly
the bed seems very large and very empty
Sleeping is not the same without you

by my side. I hug a lifeless pillow, breath
in your scent, bury my face in the bed,
I can't get you out of my head.

© Copyright 2002 Steffie (steffie at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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